


Purr

by SleepsWithCoyotes



Category: American McGee's Alice
Genre: Bestiality, F/M, Interspecies Relationship(s), archive fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-21
Updated: 2018-03-21
Packaged: 2019-04-05 10:15:24
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 387
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14042037
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SleepsWithCoyotes/pseuds/SleepsWithCoyotes
Summary: She should be able to do this.





	Purr

**Author's Note:**

> Cardfic for blackheisei: Alice/Cat - purr.

She tries again, but all that comes out is a ragged sort of growl she chokes on as her breath hitches--and oh, that, _there_ , that's the point where it all falls apart, because she doesn't know how to breathe through the sound she wants to make.

She barely knows how to breathe at all when Cat holds her down with one heavy paw and drags a barbed but mindful tongue along the side of her throat.

"Better," he rumbles, amused at her attempts, but the dissatisfied sound she makes is in his own language. Impatience and frustration translate very well. "Hm. I think it should be lower," he muses, his voice a slow curl of heat as he dips his head to suit actions to words. "Deeper in. Right where you feel the tension start."

She should be able to do this. She's learned to growl with the best of them, can make even noble Gryphon eye her askance when the mood's upon her. Shouldn't purring--and with such a teacher, _oh_ \--be easier?

She falters, her hesitant hum--that never quite catches, even against the rough strokes of his tongue--rising up through octaves on a helpless cry. She buries her hands in his ruff, arms stretched straight as he burrows into her scent, lapping methodically as his contentment vibrates through her. She tries to concentrate, to collect each gasp and breathless moan and focus it through the tightness in her throat as she arches, jerking against the brush of whiskers against her inner thighs. Instead she embarrasses herself with another sound that needs no translation, nearly feline in her completion.

Panting softly afterward, she cards her fingers languorously through Cat's fur, shuddering a little as he grooms the thin, ticklish skin of her lower belly, the cradle of her hips. In a moment, when she can move, she'll roll to her knees, try to find her purr again, but for now she hums in drowsy satiation, almost at peace.

"There you are," Cat murmurs, and she wants to protest--she doesn't sound anything like him at all.

But he must like what he hears, she decides, enough to wring that sound from her again and again, and whatever might be lost in translation is made up for in the fierce satisfaction of his smile.


End file.
